


Between The Lines

by SheepyStuff



Series: Apeiros, Dock, and Vaat Have Good Times and Adventures [7]
Category: UnsavoryHabits
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 10:00:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21052529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SheepyStuff/pseuds/SheepyStuff
Summary: Dock gifts Apeiros a rude book, drama ensues.





	Between The Lines

To call Apeiros tired would have been an insult to his exhaustion. He probably should have known better by then not to let himself get burned out, to offer himself breaks when he knew they would be required to keep him going, but the Empire did not take breaks, and nor could he. Despite how much of his time was spent sitting in office, or meetings, sleep made his body feel heavy, and sore. He was almost limping, dragging his feet against the tile of the hallway as he shuffled back to his room.

He had his shoes kicked off and left by the doorframe as he entered, ignoring them in favor of tugging off his shawl, and uniform jacket. He left the two on the back of his desk chair, placing both hands on the backrest and letting himself take a breath. He stretched his back, wincing at the crack of his spine as he arched before he relaxed, hunching towards the desk with a long sigh. It was a rarity that he felt overworked, relishing his job, but when it hit, it hit him _hard_. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand before setting it at his forehead and leaving it there.

His eyes trailed across the desk’s surface, neatly tidied, every piece in its place, as he had left it. He prided himself for his cleanliness, never a spec not where it should be. He paused, however, when a giftwrapped rectangle stood out against his usual arrangements; it was tied with twine, and wrapped in plain, brown paper. He furrowed his brow, and hummed nervously, unsure of who would have left an unmarked present for him. A few names came to mind, but he was uncertain. The date was not special, and he had not done anything particularly kind for anyone as of late. For all he knew, his gift was a threat over some words he had spoken in the past. Alas, he would never know just staring down at it incredulously.

He plucked the package from his desk turned it in his hand, feeling the rough paper for indents or clues to its contents. Flat, and plain, with little indication for its deliverer, or hidden secret, he pulled apart the small bow. The twine fell away, and he set it down, carefully spreading out the paper to reveal a relatively thin novel. Its cover was a dark brown, a leather hardback cover. There was no true title, however his name was embossed in gold on the front, and it was clear whoever had made this had put time, or decent credit, towards it.

He opened to the first page, and felt his body relax with relief at the opening words.

_“For Apeiros,_

_From Dock”_

He shook his head in disbelief, charmed by the unusual offering, and flipped to the next page. Dock was certainly known for his written word, and Apeiros found it very thoughtful, though perhaps a bit vain, for him to offer him what seemed a _one-of-kind_ piece of his work. His smile fell, however, as he began to read, and a flush took his cheeks.

“_The Ambassador met Sancteus and his General at their shared apartment, as had begun to be a habit of his. Standing before the door, he though to knock, before fishing for the key in his pocket; a gift for his frequent trips. He stepped into the living room, and his eyes locked with his Superior, as well as the Man who followed him closely; closer, he had learned, than he had previously thought. He shut the door behind him, and paused to remove his shoes, swallowing a bout of nervousness._

_Oh, how good these private meetings had been, but how _taboo_, as well. It was wrong of him to act with his Superior in such ways as he had, but how delectable nonetheless. He enjoyed it too much to stop, never mind the scandal it could cause the Council, and the Empire as a whole. There was no other place he could let himself go, after all, bound by social norm and the iron fist of the Empire; but there, in Sancteus’ company, he could find true freedom._

_“Ambassador,” Santeus greeted with a smile, raising a glass of wine to him. His crossed legs spread obscenely, and his sly grin sent a shiver down the Ambassador’s spine. “So good of you to make it.”_

_He could only nod in return, not trusting his voice to work, mouth dry, and tongue twisted._”

Apeiros could hardly believe his own eyes, and he had to physically shake his head, and lean away, glaring down at the paragraphs before him. He had known that Dock was bold, but he would never have thought that he be so _careless_ as to write such a thing. To leave it for any _snooping guest_ to find. To even _imply_ that Sancteus would have any kind of intimate relationship with his General and his Ambassador; it was a very dangerous joke to play. The mar that he had left on the Empire was far too fresh to touch, and if anyone knew that, it should have been Dock. He kept reading, shock and disbelief making him continue, trying to piece together why Dock would create such a horrid thing. He skipped ahead, ignoring the careful detail Dock had put into his _masterpiece_.

“_Sancteus lead his General into the bedroom, his Ambassador trailing behind them, tugging nervously at his necktie. He let it flitter to the ground in the hall, swallowing as he entered the bedroom. The General greeted him from the bed, smirking as he removed his shirt._”

Apeiros could feel dread pooling in his gut, as he skipped ahead a couple pages more, eyes growing wide as the paragraphs grew more and more lewd. To his growing horror, they grew familiar, too. This was no joke on Sancteus, he realized, as the story unfolded just as a night with Dock and Vaat had with him. He had disguised their names, tastelessly, with the old Speaker’s, and some of those close to him. He flipped a couple pages, pausing when a couple sentences caught his eye.

“_The Ambassador was panting, his cock hard, and Sancteus reached up to touch him, knowing just how to tease him. He stroked him slowly, from base to head, admiring the pretty whine he gave in return. He looked so sweet, ravaged by their cocks, unbound and unburdened by his usual act; Sancteus could hardly believe he had ever talked him into it in the first place. It seemed so unreal, such a regal man, reduced to an undone mess, but at the same time it seemed so fitting to finally put him in his place._

_“You enjoy this, don’t you?” He growled, hips bucking upwards, jolting The Ambassador in his lap, who could only whimper in return, crying out softly. Sancteus’ General chuckled, a low, rumbling sound, as he set his chin on the Ambassador’s shoulder, still fucking him full force from behind. His hands gripped his sides, fingers leaving bruises in their wake, and he kissed his neck, smirking at the cry of delight the Ambassador gave._

_“So sensitive, aren’t you?”_

He had to shut the book, setting it on his desk with a growing look of disgust. Something of the inner monologue, assuming Dock had set himself in the role of the old Speaker, was just too much. If that was truly what Dock had seen in that arrangement; he could not think about it, could not _make_ himself think about it. He leant towards his desk, both hands on the surface, the book between them. He stared down at it in disbelief, shame and anger building in his chest in tandem, growing with each other. His throat felt tight, but he was not about to let himself break down over a mocking novel. He had fought so hard to learn control, to be reduced to-

“_an undone mess,_”

He hissed, and stood himself up, slowing his breathing as he pressed his fingers to his temples. He would not lose himself over this, an idiotic joke.

A knock on his door stole his attention, and he sighed, marching towards it, hiding his emotions away and putting on a professional mask. Despite being under dressed, should it be someone of importance, he opened it, careless in his distress. Dock smiled back at him, grin at that moment sickening. It was the first part of him he saw, sharp teeth and curled lips. He let himself in, pushing past Apeiros despite the Councilman’s silent protest, floundering at the boldness.

“Good to see you, Apeiros, did you get my present?” He asked, a smirk on his lips. He turned on his heels, walking backwards, finding the edge of the bed and sitting himself down. Apeiros was speechless, mouth agape, struggling for words. Dock laughed at him, outright and unabashed, and slipped his jacket off, tugging at his necktie. He let it sit low on his chest, and tilted his head to show off the pale skin of his neck. Perhaps at a different time, Apeiros might have found the scene amusing, _attractive_ even, but then, it felt no more than mocking. An insult.

“I take that as a yes? Did you enjoy it?” He paused, leaning forwards, and Apeiros could see his words come to life as he made himself comfortable; _his crossed legs spread obscenely, and his sly grin sent a shiver down the Ambassador’s spine. _“Did it make you _hard_, Apeiros?” Dock purred, and finally Apeiros snapped out of his shock.

“No, Dock,” He snarled, and instantly, his Partner’s smile faltered, a look of surprise replacing his smug satisfaction.

“I read bits of it, but I could hardly get through the first few lines without feeling sick. This is _disgusting_, Dock, why would you write this? Why would you _give_ this to me?” Apeiros yelled in a whisper, motioning to the novel. He could feel sweat beading on his temples; his outburst was unlike him, and inappropriate, but he could not make himself calm down. He could not force his mask, not then, not with Dock’s toothy smile in his head, and his words, the _filth_ he spoke.

_“Did it make you hard, Apeiros?”_

There was a long pause, Dock caught off guard, his turn to be caught speechless. He fumbled for a reply, raising his hands in question, before setting them on his knees. He re-crossed his legs, leaning his chin on his hand, resting his elbow on the palm of his other hand.

“I- well, I must admit, that was not the reaction I was expecting,” He mumbled, looking aside, lips pursed.

“What were you looking for, then?” Apeiros asked through clenched teeth, crossing his arms over his chest. Dock glanced back at him, gauging his expression; he was obvious in his discomfort, the fire in Apeiros’ eyes was not something he was used.

He did not reply, not right away. He stared, instead, taking in every inch of Apeiros’ fury, and the Councilman could almost feel the wheels turning in that sly mind of his.

“I don’t know,” He said, finally, shrugging his jacket back on and standing, brushing off his pant legs like he were brushing away Apeiros’ response. Like he were brushing away something _dirty_. “I had thought you might get a kick out it, a little chuckle, maybe you would find it sexy, and we could,” He stopped again, frowning. “I mean, we still could, you know.”

Dock stepped towards him, and leaned in, a hand coming to cup Apeiros’ cheek, his other trying to find his hand, still hidden in his crossed arms. The Councilman stepped back, brows furrowed in offence, and Dock, in turn, lowered his arms, pursed lips moved into a confused pout. “Apeiros?”

“I don’t want your pity fuck,” He snarled, letting his arms drop and his hands clench into fists at his side. It was a lapse in control that Dock was unused to, so blatant and _wanton_. Briefly, something akin to fear must have crossed Dock’s features, and Apeiros’ cheeks grew red with shame. He turned his eyes to the floor, hands deliberately relaxing at his sides, trying to seem as harmless as he truly was. They were stiff, and shaking slightly, and it was not something that Dock let go ignored, staring obviously before meeting Apeiros’ gaze.

“That’s not what I came here for. That wasn’t my intentions, Apeiros-”

“It’s not about intentions, Dock. It still came off that way, it still,” He stopped, trailed off, his embarrassment overwhelming. He briskly walked to his desk, and snatched the book, marching it back to Dock. He held it before him, hurt obvious in his strained tone.

“Is this all a_ joke_ to you? Everything we do, everything we _are_?” He asked, exasperated, and Dock returned the question with a blank stare. He did not answer right away, and Apeiros sighed, letting his hand with the crude novel drop to his side, searching for the answers in Dock he seemed so reluctant to say.

“Everything I show to you,” He added, quietly, shyly, ashamed.

“Apeiros,” Dock replied, softly, then sighed, “Of course it’s not.”

Another pause, another too long silence.

“Then why treat it like one?” Dock did not answer, not that time, but Apeiros did not expect one.

“I had only thought it would be funny, Apeiros, I didn’t realize it would upset you.” The neutrality of Dock’s tone was driving Apeiros mad, and he swallowed back a scream. Dock reached a hand out, and Apeiros gave him the novel. He tucked it under his arm, and Apeiros could see the glint of his name in gold on the cover.

“That’s not an apology,” He replied, jaw clenched, gripping his hands behind his back.

“I didn’t intent it to be.”

It was clear, then, that the silence would live on. Dock strode past him, curt in his pace, and walked towards the door. The conversation was clearly too personal for his likely, striking cords that made him uneasy. He had come there for fun, after all, not to deal with the emotional aftermath of something he thought would be be humorous. Dock’s only response to discomfort was to escape, just as he did _every_ time. His walk was stiff, shoulders tense under his suit jacket. Apeiros thought to stop him, to finally claim that kiss, just for his own sake, but he stood firm; he needed to show some control around his Partner, even just that once. Dock had the door open and turned his head to catch Apeiros' gaze from the corner of his eye, and even with his back turned, Apeiros could _feel_ the scowl.

“Vaat and I were hoping you could come join us this weekend, will I see you there?”

He did not pause, he did not have to.

“Yes,” Was all Apeiros spoke, forcing back a wince at his readiness to answer. He knew, long before Dock came to him, what his answer would be to that question if asked. He knew the first day they met, he would answer yes, every time he asked.

“Good,” Dock replied, and turned back to the door. “I’ll see you then, Apeiros.”

* * *

From the moment Dock walked through the door, he was unnerved. Vaat had been reading, at the time, laying back across the couch, and enjoying the escapism of fiction when Dock returned with a storm hanging over his head. He did not speak of why, and Vaat could not fathom why, considering he had gone to meet Apeiros. His gift, some book he had had made for the Councilman, was tossing onto the coffee table as one would discard trash. Dock tossed away his jacket, cravat, and tugged off his undershirt with a huff before he wriggled into Vaat’s arms.

He lay against his chest, face pressed into his collar, grumbling, and huffing, frustration obvious. Vaat continued to read, but lay a hand against his back, rubbing his spine calmly, hoping it would help relax him. He would occasionally lean over, pressing a short kiss to his neck, or his shoulder, humming gently against his skin.

Finally, once he cooled, letting himself become lost in the warmth of his lover’s embrace, and his kisses so gentle on his skin, Dock sighed, and turned his head, cheek resting on Vaat’s shoulder.

“Was Apeiros not there?” Vaat asked, finding his bookmark, and setting his novel on the side table. He leant his head towards Dock’s, resting his forehead against his, shutting his eyes and holding him closer, other arm wrapping around his waist.

“Oh, no, he was _there_ all right, and in a fucking _mood_,” Dock grumbled, cuddling closer to Vaat. “He didn’t like my joke, he thought my book was, and I quote, _‘disgusting’_.”

Vaat snorted, nosing at Dock’s, pressing a short kiss to his lips. “Hmm, that seems unlike him? What did you write?”

With a grunt, Dock rose, to Vaat’s surprise and disappointment. He took his book from his table and handed it to Vaat, who admired the cover.

“You really put a lot of work into this?” He asked as he righted him and leaned back against the couch, flipping open the book and beginning to read.

Dock nodded, arms crossed, brown furrowed. “You’re damn right I did! I’m not going to half-ass a good joke.”

Vaat snorted, going through the introduction with mild shock. It seemed exactly like something he could expect Dock to write, though as he got further into the story, and the threesome began, he hummed, and nodded, at the similarities.

“Is this supposed to be us?” Vaat asked, never letting his eyes leave the story.

“Of course! That’s the whole joke, I figured Apeiros might like some reading when I can’t see him.”

Nodding, Vaat flipped through the final pages, and hummed, setting it down aside his own novel.

“Well? It’s good, isn’t it?” Dock asked, turning to find Vaat’s gaze. He paused, blushing slightly, to Dock’s annoyance. “Or not, apparently, you might as well just say it. I didn’t think it was that bad-”

“No, no, that’s not what I mean! The writing is perfect, Dock, it just seems,” Vaat shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck. “You know how Apeiros is, the things he does with us, how he opens up with us, I don’t know, Dock, this story seems kind of cruel doesn’t it? I mean, you aren’t subtle with the insults.”

Dock blinked, the only thing he could do. He opened his mouth to reply, to counter what Vaat had said, but promptly shut it, looking down at his lap.

“I wouldn’t call it _cruel_.”

“Dock,” Vaat replied, gently taking his hand in his. “At the least, it’s mean. You know how much this all means to Apeiros, he’s no more subtle than you are.”

Though it was true, and Dock was not an oblivious enough man not to notice it, he still found it difficult for him to outright agree. He cocked his head to one side, scowling, and leaned against Vaat’s shoulder with a sigh.

“I won’t say sorry to him, if that’s what you’re thinking I should do. He ought to learn to loosen up, anyways.”

Vaat nodded, kissing Dock’s hair. “Maybe he should, but maybe he’s not alone in that.” It earned him a glare, and Vaat bowed his head submissively in return. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, Dock, but if it were me, I would say sorry, yes.”

“Hmm,” Was all Dock spoke, and the silence continued.

“He’s still joining us this weekend,” Dock eventually said, and Vaat nodded in reply.

“Perhaps you can make it up to him then?”

Dock snorted, shaking his head.

“Right, sure.”


End file.
